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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26186209">Should’ve Noticed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22'>Wolfcry22</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awesome Dean Winchester, Brotherly Love, Coughing, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fever, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Overprotective Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, Sam Winchester Whump, Sick Character, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic, Sneezing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:33:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26186209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has been sick with a cold for several days, but they're busy on a case and he's been downplaying how bad it is. Dean goes out after the hunt for a food run and Sam is left back at the motel, where he just succumbs to how crappy he's feeling. Dean gets back and Dean finally realizes how sick his brother is and does his best to make Sam feel better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Crappy Feelings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here is yet another brotherly Sam and Dean fic. This one takes place in season 3 with Dean’s death growing closer and closer. Sam realizes that he’s going to have to learn to live without Dean and that is a scary thought for him. This story will be all about Sam trying to come to terms with this and being angry at the world for it. Luckily Dean will be there to help and I hope this comes across in this fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    "Sam? Sam? Hello, Earth to Sammy. Are you listening to me?"</p><p>    Sam jolted from his fevered thoughts as he turned his head to look over at his brother. He set his jaw as he felt his entire body shudder with a shiver that seemed to grip him despite his efforts to conceal it. He grimaced, sniffling loudly only to find that he was completely clogged with congestion the entire length of his nose and into both sides of his sinuses. He swore at the squelching sound it made before he met Dean's impatient gaze.</p><p>    "Um, yeah, Dean," asked Sam as he shoved a wrist against his nose to contain the moisture fighting to seep from his right nostril.</p><p>    Dean raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay? You look like death warmed over you."</p><p>    Dean's jibs were not helping Sam’s already less than stellar mood. Sam didn't say anything for a moment as he took a second to compose himself. He lowered his wrist and sniffled to make sure that nothing trickled out. "I'm fine, Dean. Just a little run down is all."<br/>    <br/>    "Well, you better perk back up since we're so close to finding that vamp's nest and I need you at your best," Dean told him enthusiastically.</p><p>    Sam wrinkled his nose as he pressed his head against the window, feeling the coolness soothe his aching temples. "Yeah, Dean, whatever you say," he mumbled as he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a headache start to blossom behind his eyes. He sighed heavily when he felt an impending sneeze creep up.</p><p>    "Huh'ISshsh!"</p><p>    Dean looked over to his brother and saw Sam slump back and rest his head against the window once more. Sam lifted a hand and rubbed it at his nose with his eyes flickering. "You okay over there, Sam," Dean asked, concern sounding behind his words.</p><p>    Sam thought about not answering his brother, but then thought better of it. Dean wasn’t about to let up if Sam didn’t respond. "I'm fine. We just have to finish this case." </p><p>    "Well, Sammy, if you're not feeling up to it then I can—“</p><p>    "I'm fine," Sam snapped hotly. He swiveled his head around to glare at his older brother. Couldn't Dean just leave him alone?! "Just fine.”</p><p>    Dean turned away from looking at Sam and gripped the wheel tightly in his hands, feeling the agitation wash over him like an ocean wave. "Whatever, Sam. Don't be angry at me. You said that you wanted to continue to do this. I was the one who was done."</p><p>    ‘That was before I got the worst cold that I've ever had,’ Sam thought bitterly. He rolled his eyes as he slumped back against the passenger seat, quickly bringing up the crook of his arm over his face and rocketing forward once more. "Huh'ITshshs! Huh'ITShshs! Huh'ITShshs!"</p><p>    Dean tried to ignore the sound of Sam's sneezes as he kept his eyes fixed on the road. He knew that Sam felt crappy—he had never been good about disgusting exactly how he felt whenever he was sick—but they had to get this done. Dean couldn't take on a vamps’ nest of this size without Sam's help. He knew that it would probably be frowned upon especially from Sam, yet they had to keep moving. He would've preferred that Sam was taken care of back at the motel until he nipped this in the bud, but that just wasn't a possibility. They just had to power through. It’s what they were expected to do and that's what they were going to do.</p><p>    "Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITshshs! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITshhshs!"</p><p>    Sam launched forward with each sneeze that ripped out of his body. He gasped in surprise and almost pain as he lifted his wrist to his nose to contain whatever he had expelled. The mucus seemed to almost pool against the cuff of the sleeve  of his sweatshirt and begin to drip onto his lap. He held his breath as he looked over to Dean through watery and panicked eyes.</p><p>    "Ub, Deadn, could I bother you for sobe tissues," Sam asked hopefully, sucking back as much of the snot as possible into the back of his throat, shuddering at his own disgust. How many times had he complained about Dean doing the same thing when he was sick? "Or anythig."</p><p>    Dean wanted to snap at Sam that he was driving and couldn’t look for something just so Sam could wipe his runny nose. However, one look at the sniffling, pathetic Sasquatch of a brother hunkered down into the passenger seat beside him made him reconsider. He stifled a groan as he turned and rummaged through the back seat, still trying to keep the Impala on the road at the same time. He felt around and moved a duffle with his right hand even though he wasn't sure who's it actually was. He grumbled to himself until he managed to find one of his shirts. It wasn't clean by any means, but it wasn't completely dirty either. It was going to have to do.</p><p>    "Here," Dean told him as he tossed the shirt at Sam. It landed perfectly in Sam’s lap, just in time to collect another round of snot that managed to escape from his nose and sleeve when he breathed.</p><p>    Sam narrowed his eyes in distain. "I cad't use dat!"</p><p>    "And what else do you want to use, Sammy? I can't reach anything else while I'm driving. You need to use something and that shirt is your best option. Now use it," Dean growled threateningly.</p><p>    Sam frowned, debating whether or not to use it. He had no idea where it had been, especially if it belonged to Dean. With a moan, he snatched up the shirt with a frantic grab. It felt soft in his hands from the amount of times that Dean had washed it. He mumbled under his breath at he forced the shirt against his nose and breathed heavily with his chest aching. He blew as hard as he could, feeling his nose empty and ending in a string of wet coughs. He closed his eyes and adjusted to another section of dry section of the shirt and blew again. Once he was finished he wiped the shirt upward against his nose to force out the remaining itch so that it didn’t blossom into another sneeze. He closed his eyes and leaned against the window again.</p><p>    "Sam, do you really think that we can—“</p><p>    "I said I was fine, Dean, and I meant it. Take us to the motel and we'll get our things and then go, okay?" Just talking took everything out of an already exhausted, forcing him to lean back against the door to keep him upright. "Just get us there."</p><p>    Dean frowned. "Sam, I just don't think that—“</p><p>    "I really don't want to talk about it. We do the hunt and I'll be fine. It's really not that bad," Sam told him as he felt his chest seem to clench with the lie. "But, Dean...."</p><p>    "Yeah, Sammy," questioned Dean as he looked over to his little brother expectantly.</p><p>    "When we get there can you get some food," he asked hopefully. Although not incredibly hungry, Sam knew firsthand that it was always best to eat before a hunt so that one had strength and endurance through even the most grueling hunts. It would also hopefully keep him from passing out and keep his symptoms at bay.</p><p>    That made Dean feel a lot better if Sam actually wanted to eat. Dean nodded his head vigorously. "Sure, Sammy, whatever you want."</p><p>    Sam knew that he had persuaded Dean, at least for now. He just had to keep up appearances for the time being. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily as he pressed Dean's shirt against his nose and held it there. They would arrive at the motel soon, but until then he could at least try and relax. Maybe things would be better when he woke up.</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>    "Sam. Sam? Sammy!"</p><p>    Sam jumped and shot out a hand that was already curled into a fist. It connected harshly with Dean's jaw and Dean gasped as he drew backwards. He shook his head his head to clear it as he looked to Sam while his brother coughed weakly, shaking his head and brushing his long hair back against his sweaty forehead.</p><p>    "What the hell, Sam," Dean complained as he lifted his had to his jaw and rubbed at it strongly. "What the hell?!"</p><p>    Sam sniffled against the congestion that had already begun to drip down the back of his throat thanks to his sudden movement after waking up. He lifted Dean’s shirt that he was still using as a makeshift tissue to his face and buckled forward into it. "Huh'ITshshs! Huh'Itshshs! Huh'ITShshsh! Huh'Itshshs!"</p><p>    Dean snapped his fingers as he straightened, still rubbing at his throbbing jaw. "Yeah, you sound like hell, man. Maybe you should take a shower. That might help," Dean suggested as he moved his jaw around painfully, feeling it pop. "And I should find some ice."</p><p>    "Sorry," Sam croaked as he blew his nose on the flannel shirt. He squeezed his nostrils as a blob of snot fell out. He quickly closed the shirt around it before he opened the passenger door and headed out. "I got my duffle."</p><p>    Dean said nothing as he opened the back of the car once he stepped out of the driver’s side, assessing their weapon assortment. Sam was relieved that he could have a precious few moments without his brother hovering over him every second of everyday. Sam just wanted to get in and get out. He felt like shit and nothing he was doing was helping. It would probably help if he rested, drank fluids, or took medicine, but those were luxuries and they couldn't afford them for the moment. Sam would never openly complain, but he hated the way that he felt and he was tired of it.</p><p>    After he grabbed grabbed his duffle he headed into the motel. It was your standard motel with a small kitchenette, two beds, a TV, a bathroom, and a small dining room table. Ordinarily, Sam would stay at the table and start researching there, but he didn't feel well enough for that. The sinus pressure was killing him and so was his throat whenever he swallowed or spoke.</p><p>    Dean came in after him and set his duffle down on the bed closest to the door. "Take a shower and I'm going to get some food. Any preferences?"</p><p>    "Whatever," Sam answered offhandedly with a shrug of his shoulders as he lifted the flannel to his nose and continued to rub at it. This was much nicer than tissues, not that he would ever admit that to Dean.</p><p>    Dean clapped him on the back. "Shower, Sammy, and then we'll go once we’ve eaten. It should be dark by then. You think you're up for this?"</p><p>    "If you ask me that one more time I'll put you on the ground," growled Sam threateningly.</p><p>    Dean lifted his hands in a shower of surrender and took a step back. He didn’t need to be reminded that Sam was still a lethal hunter even when he didn’t feel his best, especially if his still aching jaw was anything to go by. "Right. Right. Don't get your underwear in a twist, Sam. It's just a question," Dean muttered as he kicked his boot against the shag carpet. “Alright, well, I'll see you in a little bit. Shower."</p><p>    "You're like a broken record," Sam shot back. </p><p>    Dean headed said nothing more as he slid out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Sam let out a breath of relief as he threw himself face first down on his bed.</p><p>    "Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITShshsh! Huh'ITshs! Huh'ITShsh! Dabit!"</p><p>    Sam turned the flannel around and bunched it, blowing his nose once again against it. He wiped his nose roughly on the damp flannel and already felt it start to peel and chap. It was only day two of this damn cold and it was already beating his ass more than he would've cared to admit. He really wanted Dean back for some odd reason even though his brother could be pretty annoying, especially when Sam was sick.</p><p>    There was no way that he was taking a shower now on matter what Dean told him. That was going to make his skin feel like it was burning off and he was already having trouble with the clothes that he was wearing bothering him. He spread out on the bed to the best of his ability and closed his eyes. Maybe things would be better if he could just rest for five minutes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Road Block</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dean tries to get Sam to open up about how he feels about him going to Hell in less than a year. Sam isn’t exactly receptive.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    There was a sudden knock at the door that jolted Sam from his slumber. He jumped up from his bed and let out a deep breath, lungs crackling deep within his chest. He panted heavily as he looked over to the door. He tilted his head quizzically, thinking that maybe it had just been his imagination. </p><p>    He was about to lay back down when he heard the knocking again. Sam realized that it wasn't all in his mind and that there was someone there....hopefully Dean. He rose from the bed despite his body aches and walked over, his hair sticking up at numerous angles.</p><p>    He opened the door for Dean and found his big brother standing there with a bag from the local diner. "Are you going to invite me in or....?”</p><p>    Sam lifted a finger before he turned his head with his nostrils flaring and breath hitching. He lifted his elbow and thrust his head into it with his finger still raised to his brother. "Huh'ITShsh! Huh'Itshsh! Huh'ITshsh! Huh'Itshsh! Huh'Itshsh!"</p><p>    "Wow, going for some sort of marathon, Sammy," questioned Dean with a roll of his eyes. Although his voice was light and teasing, the concern he had for Sam still resonated deep in his gaze.</p><p>    Sam snorted back the congestion that threatened to seep out. He hurried back into the motel to find his duffle, hand still lifted to contain the result of his sneezing fit, eyes round in embarrassment. He quickly grabbed the flannel and pressed it against his nose and then cleaned off his elbow. He blew his nose so hard that his eardrums popped and he couldn't hear what Dean was saying.</p><p>    "Whadt," Sam asked stuffily.</p><p>    "Did you take a shower," Dean questioned with a raised eyebrow. He quickly put Sam's soup and salad on the table while he broke out a greasy fried chicken sandwich for himself.</p><p>    Sam thought about lying, but he knew that Dean would see through that. He shook his head timidly. "Um, no, not really. I took a nap instead. I think that it did me better."</p><p>    Dean thought about arguing with his brother and pointing out that a shower would’ve done him good, but quickly thought better of it. Sam could be even more stubborn when he was sick and Dean didn't want to fight with him over it. He stifled a groan as he sat down at the table. "Come and eat and leave that flannel shirt behind if you can. I don’t want to be looking at that snot rag while I’m eating.”</p><p>    Sam stood and walked over to the table. He sat down heavily and rubbed his fingers against his eyes to try and perk himself up. The warmth of the soup made him shiver as he picked up the plastic spoon. "How far is the nest?"</p><p>    "Half an hour," Dean mumbled around the chicken in his mouth. </p><p>    ‘Then we have to wade through the forest in the middle of New York and then kill an entire vamps’ nest,’ Sam thought bitterly as he glared in the overall direction of his brother.</p><p>    "Now, eat up. We have to leave as soon as we can," Dean told him as he shoveled another bite in his mouth.</p><p>    Sam started to eat a little faster. The soup felt good on his throat and the salad probably tasted good, not that he could taste anything. The only problem was that the steam that wafted from his meal had started to tickle his nose and made it run like a faucet. He gulped first and then snorted the remaining mucus powerfully.</p><p>    "Sam, that's gross," Dean complained as he looked up to his brother. "If you're going to do that, please do it somewhere else. I said not to bring the snot rag, but we do have extra napkins."</p><p>    He dangled them in front of Sam's face tantalizingly and Sam immediately took the entire stack and pressed it upward against his runny nose. "Huh'ITShshsh! Huh'Itshshhs! Huh'ITShshsh! Huh'ITShshsh! Huh'Itsh! Huh'Ishs!"<br/>    <br/>    Sam completely soaked through the napkins in the first two sneezes and the rest of them drenched his hands. He held them over the bowl of soup in disgust as he watched a small drop fall in it. Sam whimpered in disgust, looking up to Dean as though his brother could fix it.</p><p>    Dean wasn't sure what Sam wanted him to say or do, but making fun of him probably wasn't the best option. "Go wash your hands and do whatever it is you do and then we'll go," Dean told him as he grabbed the soup and took it to the sink to dump it down the drain.</p><p>    Sam quickly stood with his shoulders almost haunches and shuffled to the bathroom. He closed the door so that the only sound filling the room was Sam blowing his nose and then washing his hands. </p><p>    Maybe going on this hunt wasn't such a good idea.<br/>    <br/>    Dean crumpled the paper with the chicken grease and threw it in the trash along with the rest of Sam's salad. Once things were partially cleaned up, Sam came out of the bathroom. Dean did a double take at his brother’s appearance. He was about to say something, but Sam cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand.</p><p>    "I'm fine, Dean. I know what you were going to say.” Sam coughed as he rubbed a hand against the side of his face, sniffling once again. "Let's just go, okay?"</p><p>    Dean wasn't even sure what to say to that. He sighed heavily as he grabbed the keys and rushed forward, Sam on his heels. "Yeah, okay, I'm coming," called Dean with a grunt as he shut off the lights behind him, closing the door once Sam passed. He unlocked the car, headlights shinning to life. Both brothers took their respective places on either side of the Impala.</p><p>    Dean slipped into the driver's seat and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at Sam with the flannel still tucked in his hand. Dean tried not to laugh. "What's that doing here?"</p><p>    Sam looked up shyly. “I like it."</p><p>    Dean wasn't even sure what to say to that. "As long as you wash it, man. Keep it as long as you want," he told him with a nonchalant shrug.</p><p>    "Huh'Itshshs!"</p><p>    Sam was thrown forward and he rubbed the shirt against his much abused nose. He grumbled as he leaned back, sniffling instead of blowing this time. Composing himself to the best of his ability through chills and chattering teeth, Sam realized that Dean hadn’t shifted out park yet. "Drive," he commanded hoarsely.</p><p>    "Sam—“</p><p>    "Drive," Sam repeated as he coughed painfully, feeling his chest almost tighten with each tight breath. He swore that he felt something sour tasting come up into his throat. He swallowed down quickly, peering over to Dean and blinking his eyes. "Please, Dean. We need to get this done, okay?"</p><p>    Dean grasped the wheel tightly and nodded. "Okay, fine. Just don't say that I didn't warn you," he told him as he started off toward the vamp's nest. He wasn't looking forward to this half and hour drive, but it could've been worse.</p><p>    "Huh'Itshshs! Huh'Itshshs! Huh'ITshshs! Huh'Itshshs! Huh'ITshshs!"</p><p>    "Bless you," Dean told him almost offhandedly. "You still good?"</p><p>    Sam didn't say anything as he lifted the flannel to his nose. He rubbed it vigorously, back and forth. He blew his nose softly and grimaced at the pain around the sides of his nostrils. He closed his eyes and coughed heavily, almost falling forward thanks to his rapidly dissolving balance thanks to the congestion filling his ears. He looked down at the flannel and saw a small glob of almost green looking mucus. He frowned as he wiped the corners of his mouth and quickly closed it up before Dean could see and fuss over him about it. If he saw that, then he definitely wouldn’t allow him on this hunt. </p><p>    "So, you doing okay," Dean asked suddenly, both hands rubbing down around the steering wheel.</p><p>    Sam looked over and frowned. "What is that supposed to mean," he snapped much harsher than he meant.</p><p>    Dean sighed heavily as he clutched the wheel tighter, if that was even possible. He grumbled softly, as he thought about how he could say this so it didn't sound too girly. After all, the Impala was still a chick flick free zone. "Look, I just wanted to see where your head was after Dad died and everything and—“</p><p>    "I don't want to talk about this, Dean," snapped Sam as his eyes narrowed in rage.</p><p>    There had been a time when Dean had gotten this angry about the loss over their father. It seemed that this had since been transferred to Sam. Then again, a lot of things seemed to fill Sam with frustration these days.</p><p>    Dean hadn't seen Sam this angry in a long time, probably the last time was during one of Sam and John’s historic arguments. "I know, but we eventually have to. I mean, I'm not going to be here in a less than a year and I need you to-“</p><p>    "You don't need me to do anything," Sam muttered as he lowered his head into his chest and coughed heavily against it. He hacked painfully and felt the congestion seem to shift every which way inside of him. His sinuses felt like they were going to explode and the strange taste in his mouth made him want to vomit.</p><p>    Dean sighed heavily. He pulled the Impala off the side of the road and started to pound on his back to help break it up and help him breathe. "Okay, Sammy, okay. We don't have to talk about it now, but at least stop choking. Calm down. Okay, listen to me? Calm down."</p><p>    Sam did as he was told and his breathing finally turned regular. He leaned backwards and looked over at Dean before he wiped his mouth again and prayed that Dean couldn't see what he had actually coughed up into the flannel. "I'm okay," he wheezed as he blinked moisture from his eyes.</p><p>    Dean shook his head adamantly. "I really don't think that you are. You sound like you're hacking up a lung and not to mention your producing enough snot to fill the Atlantic Ocean."</p><p>    "Huh'ITshshs! Huh'Itshshs! Huh'ITshshs!" Sam blew his nose with the last bit of effort that he could manage. Never before was sickness something that could tire him out so much. "That doesn't even make any sense."</p><p>    "Yet you're the one who just saturated a shirt, Sam. A shirt! Don't even think of arguing with me," Dean told him as he pulled the Impala back on the road. He wanted to turn it around more than anything, but he was sure that Sam wouldn’t let him live it down. At least this way Dean could keep an eye on him.</p><p>    Dean pressed on the gas as Sam almost curled up into a complete ball. He breathed through his open mouth loudly as he felt his muscles and bones ache from the inside out. He wrinkled his nose in discomfort, crashing the flannel against his nose to catch anything that might leak out while he slept.</p><p>    Dean frowned as he rolled his eyes and looked up to the roof of the Impala. "God help us if both if we actually wind up living through this."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Quietly Hidden</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There’s a reason that hunters don’t hunt when sick. Sam and Dean receive a reminder of that at the worst of times.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Dean pulled off at the forest by the vamps’ cabin that they were using as their nest, Sam was sound asleep. He thought about letting him sleep, but then he thought better of it. He had to wake Sam up and Sam had to help him. He would just make sure that it was as quick as possible.</p><p>    "Sam, come on, buddy," Dean urged as he nudged Sam’s shoulder until his brother woke up with a snort.</p><p>    Sam groaned as he turned the other way and looked over at Dean through slightly puffy eyes. His flannel fell from his nose as he gave it a tentative sniff. "Dean?"</p><p>    "Yeah, are you ready," he asked as he tried to look into Sam's gaze. He was trying to look for fever, yet he couldn't find it. All he could find was the determination to get this done.</p><p>    Sam nodded as he opened the passenger door and jumped out with Dean following. They immediately went to the trunk and each found a knife of their liking. Dean took the crossbow as well as a small vial of Dead Man's Blood. He smiled at his brother, holding up the bow to him. "You or me, Sammy?"</p><p>    Sam frowned as if it was a stupid question. Dean had always been better at the crossbow than him. He wouldn't have dreamed of taking it from him unless Dean was incapacitated. "You. Huh'ITshshs!"</p><p>    "Shhh," snapped Dean as he took out a bandana and thrust it against Sam's nose and squeezed it shut, despite the rapid shaking of Sam’s head thanks to Dean touching his reddened nose. "What are you doing?! Be quiet! Do you want to be found?"</p><p>    Sam drew backwards before he took the bandana from Dean and wiped his nose. "Sorry," he croaked.</p><p>    "You just keep that under control! I do not want to die tonight, understand me?" Dean looked over at Sam and sighed heavily when he saw the shivers work their way down Sam’s arms and how tight his breathing was. Sweat glistened on his forehead, adding to the sickly sheen that overwhelmed his features. It had been a while since Sam had looked this sick. “Look, I know that you feel crappy, but you need to keep it together. This is in and out and then you can rest all you want to, alright?"</p><p>    Sam didn't say anything as he sniffled, breathing heavily. "I'll be fine, Dean."</p><p>    Dean stifled a groan while he walked forward slowly and held his breath. Sam followed close behind. He tried to breathe through his nose, but he was quick to notice that it wasn't working. He stifled a sigh as he rubbed a hand against his nose, finding that he could take in a few breaths, albeit harshly. It was dark and chilly around them. Sam couldn't help but shiver as he kneeled down beside Dean.</p><p>    Dean turned his head and glared at his brother. "Will you stop that? You're shaking the both of us," Dean complained, pushing Sam away from him.</p><p>    Sam gave another pathetic sniffle. He hung his head with his hair obstructing his vision. "Sorry," he panted as he pressed a wrist against his nose to keep the snot from dripping out.</p><p>    Dean leaned forward as he heard the sound of loud laughing. Dean's head turned in the direction of the cabin. The lights were on and he could only imagine what was going on. He knew that if they were drunk they had a bit more of a chance, but depending on the size of the nest, it could be trouble.</p><p>    Dean suddenly heard Sam's frantic breathing and he automatically glanced back at his brother. He narrowed his eyes as he saw exactly what was going to happen. "You better stifle that," Dean hissed threateningly, heart pounding in his chest.</p><p>    Sam lifted his hands to his face and pinched his nostrils shut, attempting to quell the need. The pressure was almost unbearable as he looked up to Dean pleadingly. Dean felt bad, he really did, but he couldn't have them coming and giving away their position.They wouldn't be able to win if they were jumped by the entire nest. They had the advantage of surprise and he didn't want that to change. </p><p>    "Come here, kiddo," Dean grumbled as he pulled Sam close to him so that Sam's head was pressed against his chest, still gripping his nose.</p><p>    "HuhIhxxx! HuhIhxxx! HuhIhxx!"</p><p>    Dean knew that Sam wasn't doing very well. His breath was still frantic when he breathed and his eyes were still jammed shut. Dean sighed as he straightened Sam so that he could get a better look at him. He looked his brother up and down before he battered Sam's hand away and Sam looked at him in shock.</p><p>    "De-Dean!"</p><p>    "Just trust me, Sam. This always worked when you were young." Dean pulled Sam close and started to rub the palm of his hand against Sam's nose to try and abate the tickle. Sam opened his eyes and blushed in embarrassment.</p><p>    Dean chuckled. "Oh my gosh, Sammy. Trust me, I've done a lot grosser things with you than this," Dean pointed out as he continued to rub Sam's nose back and forth around his face. He felt the dampness spreading across his palm, but if this was what it took to keep Sam quiet and semi-comfortable for the time being, it was certainly worth it. "You better?"</p><p>    It took a few seconds before Sam gulped and thought about it. "I think so,” he decided with a tentative sniff through his clogged nose.</p><p>    Dean pulled his palm backwards with a small look on his face questioningly. "Are you sure? I don't want you—“</p><p>    "I know, I know. I'm okay, I swear," Sam told him as he looked at his feet and grimaced as he sniffled again to stop the mucus from dripping from his nose. He could only imagine how much Dean probably had on his hand thanks to him.</p><p>    Dean grumbled as he wiped his palm on his pants and shuddered. "Okay, let's get going," he told him as he grasped the knife tighter in his grasp and nodded to Sam. "Ready?"</p><p>    "Ready."</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>    Dean panted as he clambered back through the forest, blinking the blood from his left eye. His eyelashes kept it from blinding him, but the small nick on his forehead was stinging a little more than he wanted to admit. He grimaced at the pain before he turned to look over his shoulder.</p><p>    "Sam, you coming?"</p><p>    Sam let out a cough, no longer trying to be quiet now that the nest had been taken care of. The cough tickled the back of his throat and shot up through his sinuses. He moaned in foreboding, turning his head into his shoulder and immediately buckling forward. "Huh'ISHshsh! Huh'ITSHShhh! Huh'ITSHsh! Huh'ITSHshsh! Huh'ITSHshh!"</p><p>    Dean sighed as he rolled his eyes, causing pain to sear through his head. "Those must be Sammy sneezes. Loud and awkward, like you, right?"</p><p>    Sam said nothing as he waltzed past Dean, slightly dragging his leg. Dean noticed the blood seeping through his jeans and leaving a small trail on the forest floor. He made a mental note to check Sam's leg when they returned to the motel. He couldn't keep that bleeding for too long.</p><p>    "Let's get you back to the motel, Sam. I see some rest and relaxation in both of our futures," he told him as he swiped the knife from Sam and threw it in the back while he climbed into the passenger seat. He closed his eyes as he leaned his head against the seat, coughing with almost every exhale.</p><p>    Dean noticed this when he closed the trunk. He tried to ignore it as he rummaged through the backseat once he shut the trunk and managed to find another one of his flannel shirts from a hunt a couple weeks back. It wasn't as soft as the other, but it would do considering they didn't have tissues in the car whatsoever. He threw it into Sam's lap and Sam didn't even appear to notice.</p><p>    Dean rolled his eyes as he threw himself into the driver's side and nudged Sam's leg. "Sam, come on. I got you something."</p><p>    Sam opened his eyes. "Whatd?"</p><p>    "Look down," he instructed as Sam did as he was told and found the flannel shirt. He picked it up and pressed it against his nose, feeling the softness. He looked up to Dean, but Dean waved his hand dismissively before he could speak. "Don't mention it. It's the least I can do for you coming on this hunt with me and saving my ass."</p><p>    Sam narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. "But, you still got hurt."</p><p>    "It's a scratch, Sam. It's nothing major. We'll clean it up when we get back to the motel," Dean told him as he looked down at Sam's leg. "We'll see to that leg too."</p><p>    Sam looked down as if noticing his injury for the first time. He ignored the small tremors of pain that traveled through it as he leaned back and coughed painfully, choking on whatever came up into his throat. He closed his eyes, slumping the rest of the way down and snorting back congestion.</p><p>    "Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITshshs! Huh'ITSHshshsh!"</p><p>    Dean stiffened at the wetness and prayed that Sam had the conscience to cover with the shirt he had been given. </p><p>    Sam rubbed at his nose halfheartedly before he pressed his head further against the window. He didn't have the strength to blow his nose and Dean didn't ask him too. If Sam was semi comfortable then he would deal with it.</p><p>    Dean started the engine and heard it turn over. "Okay, Sam, let's get you home."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The fluff is going to continue into the next chapter I can assure you. I’ll try to make the next part a little bit longer if I can. Until then I hope you guys continue to like this story and are staying safe and healthy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Injured and Sick</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dealing with injuries is a lot harder when Dean also has a sick Sam that’s worrying him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Come on, you big lug. Open your eyes and get up."</p><p>    Sam moaned as he rolled over a bit and his head fell sideways. It snapped against the dashboard and he immediately straightened, shaking his head in the process. He looked over and saw that Dean was almost partially out of the vehicle. </p><p>    "Let's go, chop chop!"</p><p>    Sam sniffled, lifting a hand to cover, but he wasn't quite quick enough. "Huh'ITshsh! Huh'ITSHsh! Huh'ITshs!"</p><p>    Sam looked at the dashboard and saw the speckles of his snot and spit against the dark surface. He looked around and stretched out the flannel, cleaning it up before Dean realized what was going on. He would never hear the end of it for Sam 'sneezing on his baby'. Sam just hoped that he didn't notice.</p><p>    He climbed out of the Impala and saw Dean standing with his foot almost tapping impatiently. Sam's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Er, hi."</p><p>    "You're going to be detailing her, alright, snotty," Dean announced as he turned heel and headed toward their motel room.</p><p>    Sam wanted to roll his eyes, but his sinus headache was getting too rough for that. He snuffled back the shot that he hadn't blown out as he forced himself forward. He opened the motel door for them to head in. Sam couldn’t help but notice how inviting the bed was, but he wasn't about to do that while Dean was there.</p><p>    "Well, I'm heading to the bar. This motel isn't going to pay for itself. You want to come," Dean offered, even though he already knew Sam's answer.</p><p>    Sam shook his head as he looked to his laptop. "I think that I'll do more research.“</p><p>    "Suit yourself!"</p><p>    "Wait," Sam called.  </p><p>    Dean halted as he turned and Sam looked to the bed. "Let me stitch it up first, okay," Sam told him hoarsely.</p><p>    Dean rolled his eyes before he walked forward and sat heavily on the bed. Sam grasped the first aid kit and brought it over. He set it down and started to go through it. He instantly found some gauze and began to dab it at Dean's forehead once he doused it in what little rubbing alcohol he had. Dean hissed in pain at the touch.</p><p>    "Stop moving," Sam grumbled in frustration, struggling to clean the wound with Dean shifting so much.</p><p>    "Wow, you're cranky," joked Dean with a roll of his eyes. "Must be the cold."</p><p>    Sam said nothing more as he finished it up before he immediately turned and buried his head into his elbow, his entire body quaking with each rasping breath.</p><p>    "Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITshsh! Huh'ITSHsh! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITShshs!"</p><p>    "Bless you," Dean told him as he handed over the flannel sweatshirt since he knew that Sam probably couldn't move from this position comfortably. "You know, if you're not going to go, do you need anything?"</p><p>    Sam grabbed the flannel and pressed it to his nose, not even bothering to clean up his elbow. "I'm fine, Dean. Just go." He blew his nose with a thunderous honk before he rose to his feet. His legs gave way under him. Dean instantly bustled to his side.</p><p>    "Sam," Dean asked urgently, gripping his shoulders and forcing him to sit upright.</p><p>    Sam gritted his teeth as Dean moved Sam's pant leg up to reveal his ankle. Dean pressed two fingers to the ankle and blood spurted out, speckling the ground in crimson. Sam growled in annoyance as he swiveled his head to glower at Dean.</p><p>    "Sorry, sorry," Dean grunted as he grabbed the first aid kit from the bed and knocked it onto the floor. It only took him a moment to find the thicker gauze that he was looking for. He adeptly wrapped Sam's ankle in it, breathing heavily, his chest heaving. "There. That should be okay for a bit. I need better supplies."</p><p>    Sam gulped, pulling away from Dean’s grasp. "I'll be fine. You go to the bar."</p><p>    "Not now with your ankle like that. Why didn't you tell me that one of those sons of bitches did that to you," Dean asked gently.</p><p>    Sam shook his head as he pulled away from Dean and hauled himself onto the bed. "It was nothing." Dean raised an eyebrow, daring Sam to try and dig himself out of the hole that he had dug for himself. "I didn't know how bad it was and the adrenaline kept me from feeling much pain. Are you happy now? Please go. I'm going to just do some research and that's it. You should go and have a good time."</p><p>    Dean sighed heavily. "I'm just going to get some things at the store and then I'll be back. If you're still standing when I get back then we'll talk about the bar, you understand?"</p><p>    "Just go, Dean," Sam snapped. "Just go."</p><p>    Dean knew that Sam usually pushed him away when he was feeling this vulnerable. He was well aware that he just had to leave Sam alone for a little bit to get some supplies to make him feel better. That didn’t mean that Dean was happy about it. He let out a drawn out sight, leaning forward to clap Sam on the back. "Take it easy."</p><p>    Sam said nothing as Dean left the room. Sam looked down, shaking his head ever so slightly. He lifted a hand and pushed it against the back of his nose, snuffling.</p><p>    "Huh'ITshshs! Huh'ITshshs! Huh'ITSssh!"</p><p>    The sneezes ripped out of him before he could even attempt to cover. He hung his head with his shaggy hair almost clumping against the side of his head. He brushed his hand against his forehead before he looked at his laptop, but for some reason that was the last thing that he wanted to do. He just wanted to lay in bed and wait for this to pass, not stare at a screen until he got an even bigger headache.</p><p>    He wanted Dean with him. He hadn't shown it, but his brother always knew what to do. Even if he didn't, it didn't take long for him to figure it out. Painstakingly, he leaned back against the bed, his feet touching the ground so that he was only about halfway up the bed and he didn't touch the pillows.</p><p>    Laying on his back caused the congestion to shift once more. The wet and painful coughing started and it was all that Sam could do was turn on his side to hack and hack. He brought the flannel up to his face to spit into. The gooey substance seemed to roll from the flannel and he wrapped it up, throwing the flannel aside. It wouldn't be any use to him now and he wasn't going to grab another one of Dean's shirts. He felt bad using the two that he had already practically drenched with his germs.</p><p>    "Huh'ITshsh! Huh'ITshsh! Huh'ITshshs!"</p><p>    Each sneeze tore out of him stronger than the next with barely a breath of preparation in between. It caused his sore throat to scream in protest and his burning nostrils to drip with more mucus. Sam was too tired and too unconcerned to do much about it. He slumped backwards on the bed once more and sat in his own misery, finally closing his eyes and praying that sleep would find him to take this misery from him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Brothers Again.....For Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Even after everything that they have been through, Dean will still take care of Sam for as long as he possibly can. The question is just if Sam will let him?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    "Sam, hello? A little help!" </p><p>    Dean received no answer as he opened the door and kicked it open with his foot. He stumbled with plastic bags in his arms and hanging from his hands. He walked over to the small table and thrust them on it. He frowned when he saw Sam laying on the bed, not even under the covers and snoring like a lawnmower.</p><p>    "Oh, Sammy," whispered Dean as he felt his heart almost break in grief for his brother.</p><p>    He came over to his little brother and stretched out a hand. He rested it on Sam's forehead and brushed the hair from his face. Sam moaned in his sleep as he turned his head so that Dean's hand fell from it. He started to moan as he stretched out a hand.</p><p>    "No. No! Don't go," he suddenly cried with his voice rising so desperately that Dean actually jumped.</p><p>    Dean grasped Sam's shoulders and shook them. "Sam, it's okay. It's just a dream, a fever dream. You're safe. You're with me," Dean told him as he continued to shake Sam's shoulder. "Sam!"</p><p>    Sam turned his head again and angled it up towards Dean. "Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITShshs! Huh'ITShsh!"</p><p>    Dean gasped in surprise, flinching when the wetness sprayed his shirt. He almost shook himself off like a dog as he looked down to his brother. "Okay, I guess I deserved that one," he muttered with a half smile.</p><p>    He stretched out a hand again and shook him once more. "Wake up, Sam. You need to wake up."</p><p>    Sam's eyes suddenly opened, finding Dean looming in front of him. He immediately sat up and groaned at the deep muscular pain that he felt. It radiated deep in his muscles and to his joints as he closed his eyes. "Ugh."</p><p>    "Yeah, I'm sure that that's how you're feeling," Dean told him as he grabbed the flannel from the floor and pressed it again Sam's nose since it had started to run again. Sam tried to pull away, but Dean was firm. He cleaned his nose with a small wipe before he grasped Sam's knee. "Go and change. I'll make up the bed for you."</p><p>    "I can do it myself," Sam protested feebly.</p><p>    "Clearly you can't," Dean reported as he pushed Sam good naturally. "Now, up. It looks like you haven't moved since I left and that was over an hour ago."</p><p>    Sam wanted to point out that he hadn't moved, but he thought that was a bad idea. Instead he grabbed his duffle and headed into the bathroom. Dean took the opportunity to pull back the sheets from the bed and throw his comforter on Sam's bed. He could tell by the way that Sam shivered how cold he actually was.</p><p>    Dean then turned to what he had gotten. He had gotten some gauze and other things for Sam's ankle, but it was more the cold that he was cornered about. For that he got him cough drops and cold medicine. He had also picked up a cheap plastic thermometer since he knew that Sam had to be feverish from the heat that he was throwing off. Dean just hoped that it wasn't dangerously high. </p><p>    The bathroom door opened as Sam staggered forward. He limped ever so slightly, tripping over his own feet and almost falling forward. Dean immediately rushed to his side and took his brother by the shoulder and waist to keep him up. Sam was so out of it that he didn’t even protest to Dean helping him.</p><p>    "I'm right here, Sam. I'm right here. You're okay," Dean told him as he helped him two more steps to the bed.</p><p>    Sam fell down heavily into it, sprawling out and moaning as he opened his mouth to breathe. Dean patted Sam's shoulder and forced him to scoot over. He then threw the covers over him and batted his shoulder comfortingly. "Okay, that's better. Warmer?"</p><p>    "Not really," Sam complained, face growing dangerously slack and head bobbing forward. "Huh'ITshsh!"</p><p>    "I have something for that," Dean announced as he kneeled on the floor and rummaged through his duffle. He pulled out another flannel and stretched out a hand toward Sam.</p><p>    Sam turned his head away and growled. "No."</p><p>    "No," echoed Dean in surprise as he tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean 'no'? What are you going to do, just let it run?"</p><p>    "You already gave me two. You only have like one of them left. I'm not going to take it," Sam argued as he sniffed powerfully.</p><p>    Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's embarrassment. He bunched the shirt in a meager ball and pushed it against Sam's nose. Sam yelped in surprise with Dean not lessening his grip. "Looks like you don't have a choice. It's already dirty and I'm not wearing it so you might as well use it."</p><p>    Sam reluctantly picked up the flannel and rubbed it against his nose since he had already contaminated it. He blew his nose fitfully since he was too stuffy for it to do much good. He set it aside for later use, pressing his fingers against his sinuses as he tried to almost massage them and break up the congestion that way. It did nothing but allow tears to prick at the corners of his eyes.</p><p>    "Does it hurt, Sammy," Dean chided as he ran his fingers through Sam's messy hair. It was clumped and sweaty, but Dean didn't care.</p><p>    Sam nodded, finally giving in to how horrible he felt. "Just pressure. It feels like someone's pushing on both sides of my face and my nose," he replied as he tried to describe it. “It’s like liquid cement and makes my face feel hot. It’s hard to describe, I guess.”</p><p>    "Yep, I do know what a sinus infection sounds like," sympathized Dean as he looked to the table at the other end of the room. “I'll be right back. I think I might have something for that."</p><p>    Sam tilted his head in curiosity as he Dean headed to the table with a scrambling of footsteps. He rummaged around urgently, heading back with a few different bottles of medicines and something that Sam knew only too well.</p><p>    "Dean, no," he croaked.</p><p>    Dean set the medicines down before he picked up what Sam dreaded more than anything: nasal spray. "Come on, dude. This is supposed to help."</p><p>    "But, it doesn't! It just makes me sneeze," complained Sam as he sniffled, feeling his nose already tickle just at the thought of it.</p><p>    Dean shrugged. "That might be a good thing, don't you think? What if this loosens up everything and then you just need to sneeze it out? Did you ever think of that?"</p><p>    Sam didn't answer. Dean couldn’t help but smile. "See? Your smart brain understands that. Come on, just let me try it, okay?"</p><p>    "Fine," Sam answered as he sat up straighter and sniffed painfully. Dean was like a dog with a bone. Once he had an idea in his head, it was impossible to talk him out of it. "Just get it over with."</p><p>    Dean shook the spray to prime it and then reached over to place the tip in Sam's nose and pushed the nozzle so that the spray squirted in Sam's nose. Sam let out a hiss of shock and discomfort, swiftly pulling and blinking his now watery eyes. A vacant look showed on his face while his nostrils quivered and breath quickened.</p><p>    Dean thrust the flannel against his brother's face just in time for Sam to pitch forward, the bed shaking as Sam did so. "Huh'ITshssh! Huh'ITshsh! Huh'ITshshs! Huh'ITshsh! Huh'ITShshs! Huh'ITSShsh! Huh'ITshsh! Huh'ITShsh!"</p><p>    "Slow down," Dean chided as he grasped Sam's shoulders to keep him from snapping forward or falling sideways. "Just breathe. Just breathe. Breathe through it."</p><p>    Sam blew his nose loudly into the flannel and it was massively productive. He rubbed his nose upward and placed it down and felt his nose almost vibrate. He looked over to Dean's side with a smug look on Sam's face.</p><p>    "You're right. You were right," Dean told him as he set the nasal spray on the table. "Do you want to try something else? I have cough medicine and cold medicine. Take your choice because you're taking one of them."</p><p>    Sam looked at both of the bottles before his gaze settled on the cough&amp;cold. "I'll take that one," he rasped. "My throat is more than a little sore. Maybe it’ll help with that?”</p><p>    Dean cracked open the top of it and poured it into a small cup that came with the medicine. Sam took it in shaky hands and he poured it into his mouth. He shuddered at the taste before he handed the cup back to Dean, rubbing the back of his hand against his lips to rid himself of the lingering taste.</p><p>    "There. How about you try and get some sleep, okay? If you're not better soon then I'll take you to the clinic. I think I saw one a couple miles back. They'll be able to give you some antibiotics," Dean told him. It had been a while since either of them had gone into a clinic for illness, but if it helped Sam, then it would be worth the inconvenience.</p><p>    Sam looked at him and nodded, lifting the flannel to his face once more as he sneezed fitfully. "Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITShsh! Huh'ITshsh!"</p><p>    "Bless you," Dean told him as he squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "Need anything? Want me to stay?"</p><p>    Sam shook his head as he rolled over, coughing painfully. "Go to the bar, Dean. I'm good. I'm good." His breathing turned slightly labored as he started to drift off.</p><p>    Dean smiled. "Sleep tight, Sammy."</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>    In the middle of the night Sam rolled over and opened his eyes. He drew backwards with his eyes widened at seeing Dean laying in front of of him, breathing deeply as he slept. His arm was draped over his face and one of his legs was pulled upward toward his chest. Sam rolled his eyes and fell back asleep, glad that his brother was with him, at least for the time being. </p><p>    He would soak up every minute that he still had with Dean because he knew that it wouldn’t be long until he wouldn’t be able to see his brother. The pain of loosing Dean may be more than Sam could go through. For now he would push that thought away and snuggle close to his brother. If Dean asked he would say it was because of his body heat, but Sam knew the truth. </p><p>    He was going to miss his brother and nothing Dean said or did was going to make it better.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This story became a lot deeper than I originally anticipated, but I hope that you guys all still enjoyed it. It was very fun to write and explore the timeframe after John died and when Dean was going to hell with that on Sam’s mind. I may write more stories in this timeframe because I enjoy it so much but we will see what happens. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you all are staying safe and healthy!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I promise that things will start to pick up in the next part that I will post as soon as I can. I hope you all enjoyed are staying safe and healthy!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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